Squeak
by derpette-Waffle
Summary: Dan had long ago accepted that he was never going to fit in, but a new friend might show him he doesn't have to be normal to be happy.
1. Chapter 1

The classroom door creaked open, and Mrs. Keagan didn't have to look up from the papers she was grading to know who it was. "Back so soon, Mr. Howell? Shouldn't you be back at your room about now?"

"I-I would be at the l-librar-rary, but you w-wanted to s-see-e me?" Dan was lucky he was having at least somewhat intelligible today, and that it was his professor he was speaking to and not another student. There was no one around to mock him, and he knew all too well that the taunting only ever made the stuttering worse. He sat down on one of the chairs and waited patiently for a bit, until he started to really worry about how he did on his paper. He was waiting for the feedback on his memoir piece he'd been asked to come for. "Was- Was it that b-bad?"

Mrs. Keagan wanted to assure him that it wasn't, but that wouldn't be a total truth. She dug through the pile for his paper and handed it to him. "Why don't you read it over yourself and tell me what you think I should give you for a grade."

Dan nodded uncertainly and looked at his paper –a paragraph, really. The prompt was a struggle he'd overcome, the same as the entire class. He wrote about his struggle concerning his stuttering.

_FREAK – Daniel Howell_

_I pretty much gave up speaking when I was thirteen. By then it had become all too clear that people couldn't understand me and weren't going to take the time to try, so there really wasn't much of a point. When I was younger, I made myself believe that it was something I'd grow out of –I hadn't spoken for the first time until I was nearly three years old, so I figured I was just a late bloomer, so to speak. But I'm twenty years old now, and it's gotten no better over the years. A while back I had the chance to go to a speech therapist, but by then my hopes at normalcy had long since shattered, and I turned it down. That was the only period where my parents could afford that kind of thing. I suppose I'm condemned to freakdom forever._

Dan nodded as he finished. "I-I guess a b-B?"

Mrs. Keagan scoffed quietly and took the paper back. "I would say maybe a D, at best. For one it's much, much shorter than the five hundred words I asked for. And it was meant to be written about a struggle you've overcome, whereas this just seems you're admitting defeat. You're usually such an excellent writer, Daniel. I actually look forward to reading your compositions, and honestly, I'm a bit disappointed. This is just… uninspired."

Dan bit his lip; he could accept that, though his parents might not. "I-I guess I-I couldn't come up- up with someth-thing I'd overc-c-come."

The professor nodded slowly and put the paper back in the pile with the others. She leaned forward on her elbows, looking straight at Dan, silent for a long moment. Dan scooted away, worried she might be trying to stare into his soul. "I'm going to email you a link this evening. When you get the link, just click and watch the video it sends you to.

"W-What's it of-f?" Dan didn't like speaking this much, worried that someone on the other side of the classroom door would overhear and laugh.

"My nephew's been making videos on the internet for a few years, and I think you should check out a few of them. I have a feeling you'll be able to relate on some level."

Dan nodded quickly and stood to leave. He avoided making eye contact with anyone as he moved down the familiar hallways and stairs. He went to the dining commons and ate his lunch in peace, and did some studying in the computer lab downstairs. It was all routine for him, and sometimes lonely, but he convinced himself that he didn't need people around when humanity was chock full of inherently dickheaded people anyway. He'd tell himself that he was better off on his own.

That night when he got back to his room, his roommate scowled at him as always as he went to sit on his bed with his laptop. He ignored Tim and put his ear buds in to listen to some music for a little while. He needed to drown out the day with some of his favorite songs.

Dan hadn't realized he had fallen asleep with his music in his ears until he woke up and it was suddenly dark out. He looked around to see that he was alone, and sighed in relief. This was much how he preferred it. He went to Tumblr to scroll through his dashboard for a while. The internet was such a welcoming place when the real world was not.

A notification popped up with an email from Professor Keagan. Dan had almost forgotten about what she was sending him, and opened up the message, clicking the link to a YouTube video that was apparently uploaded pretty recently. He clicked full screen and waited for the ad to pass.

On the screen was a young man about Dan's age, sitting in a tastefully colorful bedroom with a bright smile on his face. Dan smiled too and waited for the boy on screen to talk, but he never did. Instead, he was rather animated through a story being told completely in text at the bottom of the screen. Dan frowned a little, confused, and hit pause. He looked in the video description for some kind of explanation.

_Hi! So if you're watching my videos for the first time, I'm deaf-mute so sorry for any confusion and the four and a half minutes of silence! Hope you still enjoyed ^_^ Be sure to subscribe and I'll be back again next week! Byeee_

Dan tried to contain his smile. Professor Keagan had said he might be able to relate to her nephew, and she'd been right. Dan had come across many YouTubers over the years, but never one he felt such an instant bond with, even if it was kind of a stupid thing to get excited over. He'd never hit a button faster than the 'subscribe' button next to the channel name, AmazingPhil.


	2. Chapter 2

Three days later, Dan stayed for a few minutes after English with Professor Keagan. He waited for the other students to eagerly file out at the end of the hour, and moved from his spot in the back corner to just stand at his professor's desk for a long moment. He stood there silently for a few long moments, giving her a chance to notice him. She looked up with a small smirk. "Yes, Daniel?"

"I-I just want-ted to th-thank you-u." It was one of his worse days and he was speaking as quietly as he could so no one outside would hear and make jokes, but the whispering only made it easier to trip over his tongue. He wished his thoughts could be as clear coming out of his mouth as they were up in his head. "F-For the v-vide-o link." He should've just thanked her in the email, but he really wanted to do it in person, even as inarticulate as he was.

Keagan smiled a bit lighter and nodded. "No problem. I take it you enjoyed it?"

"I-I spent th-the rest of the n-i-ight wat-tching other v-vid'os of hi-is." Dan's face went bright red –oh god, she probably can't understand a word I'm saying. He wanted so badly to just run away before he made a bigger fool of himself, but-

"Would you perhaps like to meet him?"

* * *

The custom poster was finished, and maybe it was a little silly to put a list of his process steps up on his wall when he had no way of forgetting at this point, but Phil was happy with the result. He wished it wasn't such a pain to put up, though, rolling back up whenever he reached for a piece of tape. It took a good five minutes, but he was finally able to stand back and admire his handiwork.

1) Have something you want to say  
2) Think about how you want to say it  
3) … Say it.

It wasn't exactly his process, but it was close enough, and a little more open-ended to maybe inspire anyone who might see it. He was always emphasizing to his audience of nearly one million that they shouldn't be afraid to say what's on their minds, as long as it's not said specifically to hurt someone. Suddenly struck with his own inspiration, he hopped on his laptop and headed to Twitter.

'Don't silence yourself for fear of what someone might think –speak up!'

It was cheesy, but he liked it, and hoped his followers would, too. If he could lighten even one person's day, he'd done his job, and could be happy today. He waited a few minutes before scrolling through the replies, and found the usual heap. A bunch were grateful for his tweet, and thought he was so cute and generally happy he existed. Phil would be lying if he said those didn't leave him blushing. Then there were the more nasty ones: the ones saying he was ugly, fat, unfunny, unworthy, and wasting his time on YouTube –and he'd be lying if he said those didn't get to him just as much as the nice comments did. He flopped back onto his bed, reminding himself that he should be used to it by now, but he knew that if the nice comments didn't quantitatively outweigh the bad ones, he probably would've quit a long time ago. Now he was far too deep into this, and enjoyed it way too much, but that didn't make the rude remarks sting any less.

His light flickered three times and he perked up, fixing his hair back into place and heading for the door. He wasn't expecting anyone, but after a quick check in the mirror to make sure he looked alright, he was prepared to answer.

His Aunt Norah was standing at the door with a very tall, lanky boy whom Phil had never seen before. He smiled at them both and signed to his aunt, 'Hey, what brings you down here? And who's this?' He smiled again at the awkward boy at his door, staring down at his feet. Phil hoped he could maybe help put him at ease a bit. 'Come in!'

Norah Keagan gestured for Dan to follow her inside, and they both trailed behind Phil into the lounge, where he offered them the sofa and sat himself in a chair. Phil could read lips when the speaking was slow and clear enough, so she didn't sign back, so that Dan would be able to understand. "This is Dan, he's one of my more promising students." Dan's face heated a bit. "But he has some trouble speaking and is having a hard time working around it and being confident. I linked him to your latest video the other day and he really enjoyed it."

Phil turned to Dan and smiled, signing a 'thank you' to him. He saw Dan's confusion and retreated back into himself, staring at his lap for a moment before turning to his aunt again, who'd paused in his loss of attention. "I thought maybe you two could meet in person." She covered her mouth to keep what she said next between herself and Dan. "He loves meeting viewers and he's a sweetheart, don't be shy. And if he can't read your lips there's a whiteboard and marker in the coffee table right there, feel free to use it. He'll be using his own, and often. Don't worry."

Dan nodded and watched as she stood up, going over to hug Phil briefly. "I have a class now, I'll be back to get Dan back to campus later. You two have fun." Phil smiled and hugged back, and she left the two of them there alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Dan shifted uneasily and eyed the whiteboard visible through the drawer cracked open. He glanced up to Phil for a moment and watched as the other man was watching him being his awkward self, but was still smiling just as brightly. Dan blushed and looked back down at his lap, and then at the whiteboard. "M-May I..?" he asked nervously, pointing to it.

Phil was broken out of a brief trance when he saw Dan finally acknowledge the whiteboard in the drawer. He nodded and reached to the small table next to him to grab his own, covered in stickers with a dark blue marker chained to it. This was his –he kept two more in the flat for anyone who'd need it, but they were devoid of customization and kept with black markers. He scribbled some words down and showed it to Dan. 'Make yourself at home!'

Dan nodded, smiling a bit and taking the marker and board, popped the cap off and writing something down himself. 'Sorry I can't just talk, I have a really bad stutter and I don't think you could read my lips.'

Phil perked up and erased what he'd written in favor of something new. 'Try me.'

Dan laughed awkwardly and took a deep breath to calm himself, but it was no use. He decided to go for broke and prove his instinct right. "H-Hi I'm D-Da-an." His face was burning again in embarrassment.

Phil frowned and shook his head sadly. 'Sorry, I can't make it out.'

"F-Figures." And Dan couldn't bring himself to write anything else, too disheartened by his failure to speak properly, which in turn made Phil hard at ease, too. But an idea suddenly sparked in his head and in his haste it was scribbled down rather sloppily. He hoped Dan could read it.

'Wanna help me make a video?'

Dan blanched and immediately started writing again. 'I wouldn't have to be on camera would I?'

Phil laughed silently at his nervousness, tongue poking out the side of his mouth like Dan had seen in his videos, and it was even cuter in person (but Dan suppressed that thought.) 'No, I'm not filming yet. Come on, I'll show you.' And once he was sure Dan had finished reading, he stood and reached out for his hand. Dan stared at the hand for a long moment, and was about to take hold before it was pulled away bashfully. He stood on his own and just followed Phil down the hall to the bedroom.

It was still a more colorful bedroom than any Dan had known a grown man to live in, but it was sort of charming in a way. Phil grabbed a notebook off his desk and plopped down onto his bed, patting the spot beside him for Dan to sit down with him.

Dan cautiously obliged, and curiously looked over Phil's shoulder at the notebook. Phil smiled and moved it so Dan could see better. On the page was a bunch of scribbled notes written almost unintelligibly, but Dan could make most of it out. Suddenly it was entirely in his lap as Phil was writing something on his whiteboard. Dan read along as he wrote. 'Those are my notes for my new video. It's mostly scripted out now, but I haven't rehearsed yet. I need to start memorizing today.'

Dan stared for a moment in surprise, and carefully handed the notebook back to write on the spare board. 'You memorize your video manuscripts?'

Phil smiled, nodding. 'I have to, otherwise I won't know how to act on camera.'

Dan was pretty amazed by that, that every week Phil would apparently come up with a new video, write it out, and memorize the four to five minutes worth of material and then go on camera and basically pantomime it. 'That's pretty incredible. How long have you been doing it for?'

Phil had to think about that one for a moment. 'Seven years?' When he was ore certain, he just erased the question mark. He took a long pause before continuing. 'It's a lot of work, and really exhausting sometimes, but I really do enjoy it.'

Dan smiled. 'Well, at least you're doing what you love.' Dan had to take a moment to appreciate just how naturally conversation with Phil was coming to him, even if the conversation itself was a bit odd in its carrying out. But he'd already much rather talk to Phil by writing and erasing on whiteboards than have an actual spoken conversation with anyone. 'Do you need any help?'

Phil shook his head. There wasn't really much to help with, he just needed to sit down and study his "lines." 'No, but some company would be nice.'

Dan played with a slinky while Phil was reading over his lines. Dan frowned; he looked so anxious scanning his notebook for the last two hours, eyes visibly straining and running a hand through his black hair for the hundredth time. Dan tried to let it slide for a while, and focus on something else, but his eyes kept wandering back to Phil so hard at work. When Dan could swear he saw tears in his eyes, he wouldn't let it go on unacknowledged.

Phil didn't even notice Dan had approached until the notebook was yanked from his hand. Startled, he grabbed blindly at his whiteboard. 'What are you doing?' He didn't mean for it to come off as accusatory, but he didn't really like that he'd been interrupted, even if he felt himself in desperate need of a break.

Dan set it down on the desk and took his whiteboard in hand. 'You need to just relax for a bit.' He sat down on the bed. 'Come here.'

Phil was still in a bit of shock and scooted closer to Dan. He let out a startled yelp as Dan pulled him close –and Dan was stunned for a moment, not expecting the high-pitched noise to come from the mute— but he just pulled him closer, gently tugging Phil's head down against his shoulder. He sloppily scribbled with his free hand. 'Take a nap. I'll be here.'

Phil nodded silently, unsurely, and relaxed against Dan's side. He felt the warmth radiating for the other man and took a deep breath, inhaling his scent. He started to calm down, and drift into a much needed sleep. And Dan kept holding Phil close on the bed, stroking his hair gently as the man slept in his arms. Dan smiled and started to fall asleep there with him.

Nothing like platonic snuggles between new deeply connected friends.


	4. Chapter 5

Later that day, Dan had to get back to campus; Phil went with him. It was a nice day for a nice walk, and though Dan wasn't comfortable with the bustle of the city, having Phil there with him put him a bit more at ease. They passed by a park Dan had played in as a kid, in a simpler time when his god awful stuttering was still somewhat acceptable and didn't render him completely socially inept. He cringed at the thought, and turned to watch Phil walking beside him for a moment. He looked pretty radiant out in the sun, looking around as if he'd never been out in what was pretty much his own neighborhood before, taking in everything there was to see. Dan smiled; he had to admire that sort of light about him, and wish he had that same kind of aura.

They had planned to part ways at the campus gate, but ended up walking around a bit, biding time in content silence for a while, only broken by the occasional couple of text messages between the two of them. They smiled often, and just enjoyed being around each other. At one point Dan even considered taking Phil's hand in his own, but just before he could do so, he recognized two of his classmates within eyeshot and quickly retreated. He didn't try again.

Eventually they reached Dan's dorm hall, and had to end their time there. Dan pulled out his phone and punched into the keyboard. 'you sure you'll be okay going back by yourself?'

Phil nodded and pulled his own phone out of his pocket. 'Yeah, I think I'll stay in the area for a bit, but I still have to memorize for the video.'

Dan nodded and sighed, leaning in to quickly peck Phil on the cheek before turning on his heel and heading up to his room. His roommate wasn't there to question or care to question the bright blush on his face.

* * *

That afternoon, Dan emailed his professor.

_Professor Keagan, I was wondering if there is anyone on campus I could ask about taking sign language lessons. Phil and I kinda hit it off and I think it'd be really great if we didn't have to write to each other all the time. Even if he could read my lips I still couldn't understand what he was saying unless he wrote it down and that's not fair to him. I want to be able to speak like he does. Could you help?_

It felt too short and too wordy at the same time, and Dan looked it back over twice before he decided there wasn't any way to really make it better. He cautiously hit 'send' and waited anxiously for a reply. He had nothing to do today; he'd just stared at the screen until he got an email back, it seemed.

_Dan, email Adam Melville, he's a professor in deaf studies and I'm sure he could squeeze you into one of his sign sessions. Good luck._

Dan nodded and closed his laptop. The uneasiness in his stomach was started to settle back down, but not completely. He needed a nap.

* * *

Dan woke up an hour later still feeling poorly, stomach churning a bit but not enough to make him be sick. He started to worry if he'd maybe accidentally swallowed some of the semen this morning and it was making him feel nauseous, though it was unlikely. The air in the room was stuffy, and it was nice out today, so he slipped on his sneakers and went to walk around campus.

He ended up in the music hall, slipping down the aisles for a few minutes before coming to the small piano up on the stage. He was surprised no one was in here, and worried someone might show up, but he sat down at the bench regardless and lifted the lid. The keys were dusty, as if they hadn't been played in a long time. There was a larger piano upstage –maybe it hadn't.

Dan hit a few notes and was pleasantly surprised to find it in tune. He played around a bit with a song he'd been working on back home, before returning for the semester. It was vague and not well put together, but with a little practice he'd-

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he plucked it out: a text from Phil. His smile –already present from playing— only grew.

'I thought I might find you here. Turn around. x'

Dan twisted on the bench and saw a familiar figure standing at the back row, dim lights reflecting off a bright smile. Phil came down the aisle to join Dan up on the stage. Dan's heart skipped a beat and his hands slipped off the keys. He waved, not knowing exactly what to do to say anything to him without a marker board or something. He didn't want to text him, it seemed so unnatural. He hadn't even brought a notebook; he hadn't expected to see Phil again today, though he was definitely glad to.

'I got something for you.'

Phil pulled a whiteboard out of his bag, decorated with stickers spelling Dan's name in a border of reflective black stars. It had a nice black dry erase marker chained to the side, much like Phil's own did. It was portable, but not too small. Phil set it on top of the piano and pulled out his own. 'Keep it with you in case we run into each other again. :)'

Dan blushed and gave a small smile, a little overwhelmed. He plucked the cap off the marker. 'Thank you.'

Phil smiled back and leaned down to kiss Dan's cheek. He stood back up straight ad rested his elbows on top of the piano. 'You play?'

'Yeah, a bit. I don't think I'm any good but I try.'

'Mind if I stay and listen?'

Dan didn't really understand, but he didn't protest. There was no use in pointing out the obvious, clearly no one knew that Phil was deaf better than Phil himself did, and if he wanted to stay and pretend to listen or something, Dan wouldn't turn him away or ask why. He'd just play.

He kept working on that one song he couldn't seem to get the hang of. Phil was leaning heavily on his forearms, eyes shut and looking very serene, and –in Dan's opinion— beautiful. Dan almost lost track of the notes as he watched a small smile tug at the other man's lips; he seemed to be genuinely enjoying it, even if he couldn't hear it.

Dan paused for a long moment before switching to a different song, a classic he'd heard and played a thousand times but he knew it well and the notes wouldn't be choppy. It had a soft but punctuated sound, and he watched Phil's smile only brighten more. He couldn't hear the notes or the melody, but he could feel them just as well in the vibrations making the wood tremble. He had all his focus in that little rhythm and he loved it.

Dan was only watching Phil now, and maybe it was the soft glow of the auditorium lighting, or the music setting the mood, but in that moment he felt an awe wash over him that he'd never felt before. And as terrifying as it was, he was starting to think he was ready to embrace it. And maybe it was stupid and reckless but he was pretty damn sure he wanted to fall in love with this man leaning on the piano, hearing the music as well as anyone had ever heard it before.


	5. Chapter 6

Dan started sign lessons the next week, and it was difficult and within two weeks of it he found himself wanting to quit. He'd always been someone to give up completely after a few failed attempts, and was starting to think this wasn't worth it, that he'd just fail and make himself look like an even bigger loser to the man he was slowly falling for. He tried; he really did, because he cared enough about Phil to put himself through the awkwardness and embarrassment of his inevitable fail to try to make him happy. Every smile Phil sent his way, and every time they had to write on their whiteboards until they pushed through hand cramps, only made Dan more determined.

And the more determined he grew, the more successful his attempts were. A month after he wanted to throw in the towel, he was acing the course and was almost ready to show Phil –almost. He wanted to be able to say everything he'd need to when he surprised Phil with this.

* * *

Winter came quick and with vengeance. Dan had exams in all his courses in the coming weeks and the city was under a blanket of snow. Classes were cancelled the day Phil came by to visit.

Dan was sitting cross-legged on his bed, practicing some new signs over and over. He was getting better, and soon he might be able to show his boyfriend. Dan smiled as he went through the gestures again –he really loved being able to have that amazing man as his own. Dan was starting to believe he was actually falling in love, but he wasn't ready to say it yet. They'd only been together just over two months now, and someone like Phil was just too precious for someone like Dan to risk losing –that was how he saw it. They say it takes at least four months to fall in love, and Dan planned to give it at least that long.

Phil rubbed his hands together in the mittens to warm them, rocking on his heels outside the door to Dan's bedroom. He reached up and rapped his knuckles against the wood in their unique rhythm (one, three, then two), one they'd establish at Phil's insistence so Dan would know it was okay to answer the door and not be anxious over who was on the other side. He brought his hands to his face and huffed into them; it was incredibly cold outside and he was hardly bundled up, but there was a flame burning in his chest in hopes that Dan would come out with him.

Dan started a bit and looked to the door, and it took a moment for him to realize he recognized that rhythm. He hopped off his bed to go let Phil into the room. He smiled when he found his grinning boyfriend on the other side, dressed in a thin jacket and the skinny jeans Dan loved so much on him. There was no coincidence there.

Dan stepped back into the room for a quick moment to grab his whiteboard off his desk, and quickly scribbled onto it. 'Hey, what're you doing here?'

'I was going to the lake when I realized it would be a lot better with someone else.' He was quick to add, 'More specifically you,' with a bright smile.

Dan bit his lip. It was freezing outside, and he wasn't exactly equipped for such weather; and by Phil's attire, it seemed he wasn't either. But he did want to spend time with him; they'd barely seen each other since Dan needed to start studying. 'Why don't we stay in instead? It's really cold, and Ethan' –Dan's roommate— 'won't be here tonight. We can have the room to ourselves.'

Phil blushed and brought the marker back to the board, smile soft now. 'Okay.'

Dan stepped out of the doorway to let him in, and noticed stupidly for the first time that his boyfriend was covered in powdery snow. He dusted it off his flimsy coat, running his hands over his shoulders as his face heated up a bit. He cautiously reached up a bit to swipe some flakes out of his hair, though the white on black contrast looked so pretty.

Phil didn't mind the touching, and was just looking for somewhere to put his jacket, as the room was very warm and he was already feeling the difference in temperatures. He tugged off his mittens and puffed onto his reddened fingers a bit, and reached for his board, which he'd set down on Dan's desk. 'Is there somewhere I can hang this up?'

Dan nodded and pointed to the wardrobe, and sat back on his lumpy, quickly dropping his sign language study sheet behind the bed. He watched as Phil hung his jacket up and patted the spot next to him, inviting his boyfriend to sit with him, and then again because the first time Phil hadn't been looking. Phil smiled and joined him on the bed, leaning into Dan's shoulder, whiteboard in his lap.

Dan laid his head against Phil's and let his eyes slip shut. He knew if he was going to take a break from all the studying he needed to do, he wanted to spend it with him. He knew he probably should get to work, but even just sitting there with his Phil was a thousand times better. He kissed the top of his head and smiled when Phil scooted closer.

Phil had planned on spending the day out in the snow, maybe build a snowman or go ice skating on the frozen lake, but it wouldn't have been any fun without his boyfriend, and Dan wanted to stay in, so he wanted to stay in with him. He grabbed the blanket from the foot of the mattress and pulled it up to drape over their laps, adjusting it and pressing himself closer to Dan for some proper cuddling. Dan smiled and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, kissing his forehead, and Phil blushed a little, giggling silently. He was kind of infatuated with Dan.

Phil brought his hands up in front of Dan, biting his lip to suppress a soundless laugh as he signed to him. 'I really, really care about you, Dan.'

Dan forced a laugh and booped Phil's nose. He grabbed his whiteboard. 'You know I can't understand that.' But he did; he understood every little movement in his boyfriend's hands, and Phil would never know how happy Dan was in that moment.


	6. Chapter 7

Dan had never had a Valentine before. When he was eight, he asked this little girl in his class –Dan couldn't remember her name, only the long blonde pigtails— if she would be his Valentine. She laughed at him ("no," obviously) and told her cousin, who was a year older than they were, and the cousin pushed Dan into the mud at break. And in the twelve years since, Dan had never actively sought a Valentine, and it was only by chance that he had one now. And Dan didn't actually care much for the holiday, but he was Phil's first Valentine, too, and wanted to make it sort of special for him.

Dan honestly had no idea how to be romantic, but Phil had to know that by now. Dan hoped Phil wasn't expecting some kind of public date, because he really wasn't keen on being around other people. He'd never liked crowds, and only cared to have Phil's company; he hoped he'd understand.

It was a weekend, so they were both at Phil's place, currently in bed, Dan wide awake for an hour now and spooning his sleeping boyfriend. Dan pressed his lips to the back of his neck, letting it really sink in just how long they've been together –a bit less than five months now. He still couldn't believe it: Phil could have anyone he wanted, but he chose the awkward dork in his bed, who was now holding him tight and afraid to ever let him go.

Dan didn't really know how they'd spend what was supposed to be such a romantic holiday, but he hadn't come entirely unprepared, either. He was just waiting for Phil to wake up, as adorable as he thought he was in his sleep. Dan leaned in closer and gently stroked the hair from Phil's forehead, wondering how he got so lucky.

Phil stirred a moment later, eyes blinking open slowly to the morning light in his face. He winced at the brightness and turned over in Dan's arms, burying his face into his chest. Dan laughed and would've gladly watched him sleep a bit longer, but he was too anxious to start the day. He nudged his shoulder gently, urging his boyfriend to wake up.

Phil opened his tired eyes once more and stared up at Dan, smiling and kissing his shoulder as a 'good morning.' Dan kissed the top of his head to return it, and pulled back to reach for his whiteboard. Phil didn't appreciate the loss of Dan's warmth, but he waited to see what he had to say to him. 'I brought my mini keyboard. Wanna hear a new song?'

Dan smiled when he saw Phil's eyes light up at that, jolted awake at the idea. He rolled out of bed to get his bag from across the room, and pulled out a small electric keyboard. It was nowhere near real piano quality, but he couldn't lug the piano from the campus auditorium to Phil's flat. He settled back on the bed with the device heavy in his lap. Phil moved to sit beside him on the edge of the bed, running his fingertips over the speaker before letting his palm settle against it.

It was a very simple, choppy sounding piece that Dan had composed himself, sort of. It was meant to be a love song, and he had lyrics to go along with it, but they were cheesy and stilted and he didn't want Phil to see them. He wished he could put his love into words; he was a writer more than anything, but what he felt for Phil just seemed too ineffable to write a love song with.

If Dan could pull his eyes away from the elusive keys long enough to catch Phil's reaction, he probably would've been encouraged by the smile playing at his lips. Phil could only imagine what the music actually sounded like, but he very much enjoyed how it felt vibrating in the pads of his fingertips. He found himself thinking that the music felt very Dan, and he smiled brighter at the idea that whatever this slightly awkward but utmost sincere tune was could be his boyfriend on sheet music.

Dan finished with a long pause, unsure whether he wanted to see Phil's reaction, but he didn't need to, because his boyfriend's lips were suddenly pressed hard to his cheek, and the spot was suddenly alight in a blush. When they pulled away, Dan reached his fingers up to touch the place gently, smiling stupidly and so in love. He shouldn't be so absolutely infatuated after months together but- no, looking back at Phil's smiling face, he definitely had cause to still be so head over heels.

It seemed Phil had as little desire to go out as Dan did, and they spent the day right there in the flat. It was a horribly aromantic day, filled with video games and junk food and dumb movies with the subtitles on (for obvious reasons), but they both figured the constant mutual need for the other's touch made it sort of count as a date spanning morning to late in the evening. It was around eight that Dan suddenly paused the film and turned to Phil, who didn't really like the nervous look on Dan's face.

Dan pulled out his whiteboard to write something shakily onto it. 'There's something I want to tell you…' Phil nodded, giving Dan his full attention and silently urging him to go on. He erased it and it took him a moment to finish writing. 'I know it seems really dumb to admit something like this on Valentine's Day, really cheesy and cliché, but…'

And Dan didn't need the whiteboard for the next bit. 'I really love you: a lot.' His hands were shaking but he was pretty sure he was getting it right; he didn't look up to see Phil's slightly shocked face, hand up over his mouth and a bit of confusion in his eyes, wondering where this was going. But Dan had practiced this a hundred times over, and he couldn't lose focus before he was finished. 'So back in late September after we met I started taking lessons, and I've been practicing to try to get to the point where I might be fluid and fluent enough to show you. I know you're more comfortable talking this way, and you've been so patient writing out everything you had to say to me, just to be friends and more with me and the ignorance and awkwardness that comes with it. I didn't learn all this in class –a lot I had to find on my own— so I'm not sure if everything's right and I'm sorry if this all looks like rubbish to you, and I love you so much, Phil, and I would really do anything for you, to make you happy.' He was on the verge of panic and stumbling over his own hands, but he couldn't give up so close to the finish. Just a few more words. 'Happy Valentine's Day.'

He gave himself a moment to calm down, head hung low, arms and hands aching, catching his breath. And suddenly familiar fingers were lifting his jaw and Dan was forced to look at Phil. And Phil looked so incredibly happy in that one moment that that alone would make all these months of learning and practice, hundreds of hours worth, completely worth it. Dan reached a shaking hand up to wipe joyful tears from his boyfriend's eyes, and then lips were hard against his own, and he had no intention of pulling back for anything.

Eventually Phil broke the contact only enough for Dan to see his own shaking hands move. 'Happy Valentine's Day.'


	7. Chapter 8

Dan wasn't normally one to text in class –more likely to play Tetris or otherwise, honestly— but this was a particularly grating class on a particularly stressful day, and he was feeling particularly lonesome. The professor wouldn't see him anyway, where he sat in the back corner of the class, away from everyone else; and Phil had texted him first. It would be rude not to reply. He snuck the device discreetly from his pocket.

'Babe, you left your DS in my room again.'

Dan groaned at his owned forgetfulness and quickly typed out a reply under his desk. 'Can you bring it over? I have a huge load of homework to do and can't come over tonight.'

It was a minute or so before he got a reply; Phil was probably as bored as he was. 'Sure! I'll be looking forward to homework cuddles :3'

Dan tried to suppress a stupid grin at the idea. 'You're such a distraction. I love you. :)'

He got no reply, no 'love you too,' but Phil knew his class schedule well, and he probably should be paying attention to whatever dull subject was being discussed. He still had another class after this, moved from Tuesday after being cancelled by snow. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Phil didn't know about Dan's rescheduled class and headed right over to his room, expecting Dan to be back by now. He'd asked him to come bring it by; surely he had to be available. Dan didn't seem to be having a good day, and Phil was hoping he could change that with a few kisses and some snuggles. He didn't have to totally be a distraction from Dan's work, either; he could help if Dan had any work to do for his sign course. It had been two weeks since Valentine's Day, and Phil was still felt just as fuzzy inside over Dan learning sign language as he did when he first found out. Phil was eager to teach him things the course did not.

A friendly stranger allowed Phil into Dan's hall, and he took the familiar route to Dan's bedroom, his boyfriend's DS in hand as he knocked on the door. He wondered what Dan was doing in there as he arrived.

But Dan wasn't home; his roommate, Ethan, on the other hand, answered the door. He was about Phil's height but more built, muscular where Phil was scrawny or a little pudgy. He smelled thickly of sweat and booze, and Phil fought not to turn up his nose at the stench. He tried to make the proper movements –'Is Dan here?'— with his mouth and hope that Ethan could read it, but he wasn't sure he was getting it right.

Ethan smirked. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

Phil shook his head and signed a quick phrase; it wouldn't make sense here, but he knew Ethan wouldn't understand it anyway, just trying to get the message across that he was deaf, and along with such couldn't voice the question.

"He'll be in in a few minutes, come on in." Ethan stepped aside and Phil slipped past him into the familiar room, settling quietly on Dan's bed. Ethan moved to what Phil knew to be his desk, and put his ear buds in. Phil played Tetris while he waited.

He was absorbed in his game when suddenly a shadow cast over him, and Phil looked up to see Ethan hovering him. Phil slowly set his phone down.

"You can read lips, yeah?" Phil couldn't hear the tone of his voice, but he didn't like the look in his eye. He nodded uncertainly, and Ethan continued. "Then I'll speak slowly and clearly, dipshit. See, I've watched you coming in and out of here for a few months now, following that loser like a damn puppy, hung up on every word you couldn't hear even if he could speak them properly."

Phil didn't mind what Ethan was saying about him himself –he'd definitely heard much worse, more personal jabs before— but he grew defensive when the boy spoke like that about Dan. He clenched his fists, wishing he could say something; he reluctantly read Ethan's lips as he continued.

Ethan was uncomfortably close now. "See, it's been a while since I've gotten laid-" _I wonder why_, Phil mused silently, "and normally I don't do this shit with dudes but I'm not too picky, and you're kinda, like, attractive for an unattractive guy."

Phil winced at that; unattractive? He didn't have much time to dwell on it then. "Anyway, your boyfriend or whatever would've been my first choice as far as looks go, cuz he's like pretty for a guy, but god knows he's such a retard-"

Phil pushed hard at Ethan's shoulder, glaring daggers. Ethan leaned suddenly closer, and Phil lost his balance, falling backward onto the bed. He couldn't read Ethan's lips in the shadow, but he could definitely feel a rough hand stroking over his thigh through his jeans. Phil let out a squeak and bit down hard on his lip –squinting his eyes shut, fearing the worst to come.

But suddenly the unwelcome presence of Ethan's hard body was gone, and Phil opened his eyes back up to see the door open and Dan closing it behind him, pulling his headphones off. Phil looked to the other side of the room, where Ethan looked to be doing homework or whatever, playing innocent.

Dan couldn't miss Phil's obvious uneasiness, and moved closer to get his attention, and try to discover what was wrong. Phil was breathing hard, a panicked look in his eyes where Dan had never seen anything but a distinct sparkle. He grew worried, frowning as he made the appropriate gestures to signal his concern. 'Baby, are you okay? What's wrong?'

Phil looked to Dan in time to catch his silent words, and then back at Ethan before back to Dan again. He shook his head, swallowing thickly, and sat back up. 'Nothing, I'm fine.'

It didn't convince Dan, though. He started to worry his boyfriend might be ill, and set his bag down on the floor; his homework could wait. He carefully moved to lay down behind Phil and pull him in close. He was shaking all over, and Dan tucked his face into the crook of Phil's neck, pressing his lips there gently. He let his eyes fall shut as he waited for Phil to be alright.

Phil tried to calm down; he looked over to Ethan and shuddered at the recent recollection of the uncomfortable proximity, the insults, the propositions and the stench of booze. Ethan smirked and blew a taunting kiss in his direction. 'Next time.'


	8. Chapter 9

It was a mundane, ordinary morning in late March that Dan remembered he even had a stutter; and he was taken aback by how he had just somehow forgotten. He had to take a moment to think, to wonder how long since he'd last acknowledged it. It was easier to forget when he never had the necessary occasion to speak anymore. He didn't speak in class and he didn't have any friends; family never called or came to visit; he only ever really talked to Phil and all that was through sign and texts and the occasional whiteboard conversation when Dan was having an off day and forgot gestures, or didn't know how to say what he wanted to. The more he thought on it, the more Dan realized he couldn't actually remember the last time he'd spoken aloud. It was so strange to him that his voice and the awful stuttering that came with it –that had plagued him his whole life and caused his retreat from the world— had been pushed so far to the back of his mind.

But nor could Dan say he didn't enjoy that it was forgotten. He was happy without the constant reminder that he couldn't speak well, that people couldn't understand him and conversation was readily abandoned with those so inarticulate. Phil knew about Dan's stutter, and didn't care, wouldn't care even if it did make a difference –it had, actually, when he couldn't simply read Dan's lips in conversation. Phil loved him, so much, and that was more than Dan could ever as to be returned for his own love.

Phil was up long before Dan was, but Dan was content and comfortable to lie in his boyfriend's bed a while longer, pondering the last six months or so. Six months –he still couldn't even believe it had been a week, let alone many. The thought struck him with a sudden urge to go be near his lover, be by his side the whole day and never forget just how lucky he is. They were both so lucky to have each other.

Dan found Phil in the lounge, cross-legged on the sofa with his computer in his lap, headphones on, probably editing his new video. Dan leaned against the door frame for a minute, watching his boyfriend make no movement, before stepping into the room. He plopped down beside him, watching for another moment, before stretching his arm across Phil's shoulders.

Phil jerked violently from his touch, and let out a silent forced laugh when he saw it was just Dan. 'You scared me!'

Dan tried to laugh, but couldn't shake that something felt off. Phil was probably just having a bad morning, he figured, and leaned in a bit where he could still see his hand motions. 'Were you expecting someone else?' He was learning well and quickly, becoming more fluent if not entirely so. Class could only teach him so much, and new material rarely came anymore. It was even just simple conversation with his boyfriend that got him real practice. Even if he would trip over his lips and tongue, his hands moved fluidly in silent speech.

Phil shook his head and quickly added, 'No one, I just wasn't expecting you to be up this early.' It was only nine, and Dan was never awake before ten, much less up and about. 'What brings you from bed so soon?' He smiled and set his hands back on the keyboard, ready to resume his work.

Dan thought for a moment, because the answer he wanted to give was maybe too cheesy to be even pitifully tasteful. He decided to give it anyway: 'I missed your warmth.'

Phil smiled fondly and leaned closer to quickly press his lips to Dan's cheeks. 'You're too cute, but I really need to finish this by this afternoon.'

Dan nodded, frowning once Phil's attention was back on his unfinished video. He was maybe thinking it selfishly, but Dan didn't believe Phil should be held so strictly to his weekly upload schedule. He had to put so much effort into it before even recording, he shouldn't have to be held to it like he was. He didn't want to bring it up, knowing the response he would get: Phil would stress that over one and a half million people were a lot to disappoint, and he'd only once ever uploaded late, there was no reason to forfeit this streak. And Dan accepted it without it ever needing to be said.

Dan tried to keep himself occupied, not wanting to go back to campus before he had to Monday morning, not really willing to leave the flat at all. He'd just wait patiently; this shouldn't really take more than a few hours, and Phil always gave Dan his full attention once everything was ready and posted. Dan scrunched his nose; when had he become so needy?

He spotted an open letter on the table next to him; and curious and nosy, he plucked it up to read it. An invitation to a local YouTube gathering, more for the viewers than those making the videos –Dan tapped Phil's shoulder to regain his attention. Phil flinched again, but not so badly as before. 'Yes Dan?' He was a bit exasperated at being interrupted again, but he could never get mad at Dan.

'Are you going to this?' Dan asked, acknowledging the invitation. 'It seems they want you there.'

Phil shrugged, shaking his head slightly. 'Never have before; don't see why I would, honestly. I don't know anyone in the YouTube community.' He was spelling out some words he knew Dan might not know: a common occurrence. Knowing Dan would then mention how he could meet his viewers –Dan called them fans, but he wouldn't exactly consider himself someone to be a fan of— he was quick to note, 'And no one would actually want to see me once they know what it's actually like meeting me. It's different online; I can interact with them in type. In person, sure, I could read their lips and understand, but then how awkward would it be when I can't give a response? I can't just carry my whiteboard everywhere. Everyone involved would just be uncomfortable.'

Dan really didn't like Phil talking about himself like that. Dan knew the feeling well –thinking you're not worth someone's time, and because of a lapse in conversation. But Dan had never known Phil to feel this way before; Phil was bright and optimistic and always greeted the world with a smile. Hearing this from him was breaking his heart, and he wanted to fix it. He was struck with an idea that sounded kind of dumb in his head, so he could only hope Phil would think otherwise. 'What if I was your voice?'

Phil looked at him, wondering if he'd read that right, or Dan had meant to say something else. 'Be my voice?'

'Yeah. I go with you to the meet up and what you want to say to a fan, you sign to me, and I'll say it for you. I think I might've gotten good enough to get it right at least ninety percent of the time?'

Phil smiled, rolling his eyes halfheartedly and wondering how he'd gotten so lucky as to have Dan in his life. He leaned closer, lying his head against his boyfriend's shoulder and signing out in front of him. 'You're an idiot.'

'So we're going?'

'We're going.'


	9. Chapter 10

**Warning for mentions of sexual assault**

* * *

Despite his earlier enthusiasm to go with Phil to the convention, Dan walked out the night of believing it couldn't have possibly gone worse, and they would've both been better just staying in bed. He had tried, really, he did; but his stuttering was still so atrocious that try as he might to translate the words from Phil's hands to a fan's ears, he was completely unintelligible. He had to thank god for Phil's viewers who'd come to see him, as they'd just smile and act as though they could understand the words toppling over each other from Dan's mouth –and Phil himself was none the wiser, and was content walking down the pavement with Dan en route to the university campus. If there was anything sacred in the world it was Phil's optimism, and something that Dan greatly admired.

Dan had class in the morning, and needed to get some work done before he could sleep, but at the same time he wanted his boyfriend to stick around with him a while longer. He took Phil back to his room, and didn't miss how he tensed when they entered the building, and how Phil squeezed his hand tighter when they came into the bedroom. Dan asked him if he was okay; Phil brushed it off, 'I'm fine, yeah.' And Dan dismissed it there.

They lay squished close together in Dan's bed for a while, not doing or saying anything and content to carry on just like that. Dan slipped into not giving a fuck about studying as long as he had Phil in his arms and tight against him. But neither of them had eaten since that morning, and Dan's stomach was calling to him. He didn't have any food in the room; he'd need to go out. He was about to ask Phil if he wanted to join him on a quick trip to the shop, but it looked like his boyfriend was already half-asleep, adorably exhausted from the long day. Dan smiled and pecked his cheek, but his stomach couldn't wait any longer, and required sustenance.

He pressed his lips in a trail from Phil's neck to his cheek, smiling when he felt the small smile he got for it. He moved to awkwardly position his arms to stretch out in front of Phil, and hoped he had his eyes open, because Dan was already wondering if this right now was worth the awful strain on his shoulder. 'I'm gonna go get some snacks, I won't take long. Do you wanna come with me or stay here?'

Dan's hands retreated to be somewhat comfortable again, and Phil held his own out in their place. 'I'll stay. Hurry back.'

Dan nodded and kissed his cheek again sweetly before maneuvering himself out from behind Phil and out of bed. He grabbed a thin jacket for the cool weather and his wallet and key, and headed out.

Phil settled down again, though the bed wasn't as comfortable without Dan's warmth pressed against him. He dozed in and out of sleep, and smiled softly when he saw the changing lights as the door opened and closed, thinking he'd slept long enough for Dan to be back already. He opened his eyes more fully to greet him, but a blow to the head felled them shut again.

* * *

Stock was limited at the shop, but Dan still found himself caught between flavors of Doritos. He knew Phil would prefer Cool Ranch, but Phil was pretty much asleep when he left and Dan was more of a Lime person. He bit his lip as he considered; he hadn't even picked out any drinks yet, and his mind started to wander there on top of this.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and Dan was more than a little surprised to see a text from his roommate. Ethan had never, ever texted Dan before, but was an obligatory contact, in case of missing keys or otherwise. He pressed to see what had brought this on.

'You gotta get back here quick!'

* * *

There was no DNA left behind, and no unfamiliar fingerprints. There was nothing to conclude an attack had even taken place aside from the physical trauma, the bleeding and the crack in Phil's skull where he'd been knocked unconscious.

There were no witnesses; the whole of the floor had been gathered to find who might have seen anyone enter the room –none had, and all were in attendance. Dan was told the building would be under careful surveillance until this whole matter was sorted out. Dan wanted to spit on whoever had called it a 'matter,' an 'incident'; his boyfriend was fucking raped and they were treating it like some diplomatic issue. Dan had never wished the flaming pits of Hell so much as he did on the motherfucker who'd hurt his Phil.

Professor Keagan sat in the waiting room with her nephew's boyfriend, trying to keep calm where Dan failed to. Dan was outright sobbing after an hour of uncertainty, and she assured him countless times that it was okay to cry; he didn't fail to take her up on the offer, as he wanted to let all the tears fall before he saw Phil, because Phil would need Dan to be strong for him.

A clean-pressed doctor came down to usher the two to the room in which Phil was staying. Dan couldn't get there fast enough, he needed to be there with his boyfriend. The doctor informed them that Phil would likely be waking up soon; that he thus far had no knowledge of the attack. Dan swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Professor Keagan gently offered to be the one to break the news, but Dan shook his head. He requested only that when Phil did wake up, he could be left alone with him to tell him what had happened.


	10. Chapter 11

Dan sat vigil at his boyfriend's bedside, watching intently as Phil slept –unfaltering, almost serene sleep. Seeing him like this, there was no overt way to tell that he'd been attacked and so brutally violated, but Dan knew better no matter how much he wished it wasn't true. He wiped the last of the salty tears from his eyes and forced himself to stay strong; Phil couldn't see him crying, he needed Dan now more than ever.

Professor Keagan sat across the room, further from the hospital bed, sleeping uneasily. A police detective stood outside, alert on several cups of coffee, ready to ask questions when Phil was able to provide answers. It was past midnight, and Dan was weary from crying and would've liked to sleep were the circumstances different, but he was awake on adrenaline and a few shots of espresso. This couldn't be happening, shouldn't be happening, but it was all too real and he'd have to figure out how to handle it before his boyfriend woke up.

Phil's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled seeing Dan sitting beside him, probably watching him sleep in an adorable kind of way. Dan was holding his hand, and Phil played lazily with his fingers, eyes turning to him sweetly. He sighed contently and pulled his hand back. 'Morning, Danny.' He didn't know why he was so tired.

Dan swallowed hard, and pretended to be okay. He felt so stupid and selfish acting like this, he wasn't the one who'd been hurt in such a heinous way. 'Good morning, angel.'

Phil's face scrunched up in a slow yawn, and relaxed a bit more alert than before. He noticed his surroundings were unfamiliar, that he wasn't lying where he'd fallen asleep in Dan's bed. Confusion took hold, and he looked to Dan for an explanation. 'Where are we, what's going on?'

Dan bit his lip. There was no avoiding it any longer, and his hands were shaking as he made a vague answer. 'We're at the hospital. You… were attacked.' He wasn't crying anymore, fortunately; he'd run out of tears to fall.

Phil's confusion only heightened, and he was about to question it, moving to prop himself up a bit; a horrible pain shot through his backside, and in a moment, he understood. Dan could barely stand how his dear boyfriend looked so hurt, so lost; 'Come hold me?' was all Phil responded to the realization with, and Dan didn't hesitate, and got into the narrow bed –narrower than his own dorm bed— with him, pulling him in close but frightful that he'd pull away. On the contrary, Phil pressed himself closer to Dan, as if morphing his own form with that of his boyfriend would make this all go away. They both wished it was only so simple, that anything could change what happened.

* * *

Dan had rushed back to the room after receiving the message, forgetting the snacks and his growling stomach entirely. He could later be grateful that his stomach was empty, as when he returned to the grotesque sight on his bed, he would've vomited otherwise. His boyfriend was half sprawled face down on his sheets, completely bare and exposed, unconscious and bleeding. Ethan as sat across the room at his desk, looking as though in shock, and Dan found his voice –though shaker than ever— to scream at him to call for an ambulance. Ethan hopped to it, and Dan was able to thus put his attention to Phil. The man was still and breathing shallow, and a hard blow to the head was evident by the massive bump pressing his hair out of place. Dan looked around for what might have done it, but in the otherwise meticulous bedroom, all he found were Phil's clothes strewn everywhere.

* * *

"Did you see your attacker?"

Professor Keagan was acting as a sort of translator between the detective and Phil as Dan was still holding him close, afraid to let him go. Phil could've read the man's lips but it took more effort that he just didn't have the energy to put forth. It was much easier to read his aunt's hands.

Phil shook his head slowly. 'No, I didn't. I was only awake for a second when I guess he knocked me out.' He knew who'd done it, of course, but he hadn't seen him.

"What do you remember prior to your waking up here in the hospital?"

'I was falling asleep in Dan's bed, and he was going to get snacks and said he'd be back soon. I woke up for a second later when I saw the door opening, but I thought it was Dan, I didn't see who'd actually come in.'

Dan could've sworn he'd read that wrong, looking over Phil's shoulder at his hand movements. He presumed he had.

"Do you have any idea who might've done it?"

Ethan. Ethan was the only one with easy access to the room where he and Dan were the sole occupants; Ethan had threatened to violate Phil once long before finally carrying it out. Phil swallowed hard –Ethan had raped him, he had, and he knew it. 'No, I'm sorry.'

* * *

Phil ultimately opted out of filing charges –he'd convinced everyone and himself that no one would be brought to justice, and wouldn't waste their time and efforts, though he was grateful when the detective informed him he was allowed at any time to change his mind, if he remembered something or desired closure. There was no evidence to have been gotten, but the detective assured him that if ever he changed his mind and wanted his attacker charged, they would find who'd done it. Phil thanked him, spent the rest of the night in hospital, and went home the next day.

Dan stayed with him, and missed a week of classes. Phil insisted he really shouldn't have taken off, and that he was fine to be left alone, but knew he wasn't, really, and liked having Dan around like that.

There wasn't much discussion to be had about it. Within another week Dan had then moved out of his dorm room and into Phil's, where the small vicinity and single bed was enough for the two of them.


	11. Chapter 12

Living together now wasn't much different than before, and they grew used to the change rather quickly. It wasn't far from the campus, so every day Dan would just walk, or take a bus if the weather was particularly bad, but he liked the rain. He never stuck around after his classes: he had no reason to. But after another week or so of living with Phil, Dan found himself spending more and more of his off time at the library, unable to focus on homework, just biding time before he'd have to go home.

It wasn't that he didn't like living with Phil –if that were the case, he'd say something and maybe move back out (or he hoped he'd have the courage to do that, and not be too concerned about hurting Phil as to put a strain on their relationship, when they very much did not need that right now.) He loved it, actually. Phil would wake up first and make him cereal and coffee-to-go; he'd hide a snack in Dan's bag with a little note, usually 'I love you' or 'enjoy your day' or '^_^'; he'd text Dan when he knew he was out of class and on his way home, and they'd go back and forth like that until he returned; Phil insisted Dan didn't help with rent or buy his own food –Dan had little to no money, Phil was already making enough to pay rent and had always bought more than enough food for himself, easily shared between the two of them. And on weekends when Dan didn't have anywhere to be, he loved invariably waking up to Phil's sleeping face, and returning the favor he was charitably given every weekday, and they'd go out to eat by what weekly allowance Dan's parents afforded him. Weekends weren't much different than they had been before, as Dan spent Friday night through Monday morning with Phil anyway –it was just becoming a constant in his life now, being there with Phil every day, sharing his home, sharing his bed. And he cherished that.

It wasn't that he didn't like living with Phil –he was just worried. Within a few days after the incident –just a day, even— Phil wasn't reacting to it as Dan had expected. He didn't seem to react to it at all, really; there was never any mention of it, and Dan never caught Phil upset or fearful. He seemed to be just as he'd been before the attack, and that concerned Dan greatly. The only actual change Dan had noticed was that Phil was putting even more work into his videos than he had before; and it hadn't made him reclusive, exactly –he still spent plenty enough time with his live-in boyfriend— but something about it seemed off, and Dan didn't like it. It was when he knew Phil would be working on his video morning to night that Dan slunk away into the quiet of the library, reading up on trauma and trying to discover what might be wrong. For all he knew, this could be a perfectly normal way of coping; Dan himself had never been a victim of any serious dark event before –his life was adequately dull. He could only hope Phil was alright as he skimmed some more pages of internet research.

* * *

Dan arrived home a bit past seven, and as always rang the doorbell just to let Phil know he was home (the doorbell made the lights flicker everywhere in the flat, an installation secret from the landlord.) Dan set his stuff down in the lounge, keeping it neat, worried to make a mess of the place though he was certainly the tidier of the two. He searched the flat –Phil was nowhere to be found.

He arrived at their bedroom, and found the lights off, but the glowing brightness from the hallway cast a shadow over the figure he'd been searching for. Phil on the floor in the corner, shoulders hunched and knees brought up to his chest, head down against them. Dan could hear muffled sniffling that broke his heart, but he needed to just let his boyfriend be alone for a little while, worried he might freak out at Dan's presence. He shuffled silently back into the hallway.

Dan wished he knew what he could do, but in all his time spent researching trauma, he'd never thought to look up how to help the victim. He felt so stupid now; how could he have completely cast aside actually helping his boyfriend, who'd been hurt, violated so horribly? All he'd done was selfishly look to his own concerns, needing validation that this was okay, that this was normal, that he really had nothing to stress over. Sure, maybe the reaction he'd just seen could've been more dramatic, but Phil's pain was all too real and all too lingering. He had to live with how he'd been raped, and couldn't remember any of it, didn't know who'd attacked him –or so he claimed, and it would probably only be worse if Phil did know who'd done it, because now he was more fully suffering, and all in silence.

Dan kicked the leg of the coffee table, tears burning in his own eyes. _Stop crying, you fucking-!_ He couldn't even come up with some heinous thing to call himself: he'd been so blinded by his own need for closure that he had completely ignored Phil's suppressed need for comfort. And he just wanted to- no, he wouldn't look down that road again.

Dan didn't have the strength to face his boyfriend before Phil emerged from the bedroom, a smile on his face but unmistakable redness in his eyes, and Dan wondered nauseously how long he'd been skimming over that for.

'Dan, are you alright?'

Dan forced a nod; he wasn't going to let Phil be the one to take care of him anymore. He had his own pain to handle, that Dan had been letting go for too long. And he wouldn't be letting that continue.

* * *

It was still two weeks before Dan grew some balls and could approach Phil about the subject –and he only hated himself more every day he put it off, but this wasn't about him, it was about Phil –that was what he told himself.


	12. Chapter 13

Phil was in the lounge watching a film, eyes moving lazily, absently over the subtitles blurring at the bottom of the screen. He shuddered and pulled his hoodie tighter around him –had it always been so cold in here? He scrunched his face and missed a few lines while his eyes were closed, but it was no terrible loss that he would dwell on for the next scene or so. He could move on from that.

His mind wandered back to what he couldn't move on from, no matter how hard he tried to just forget it had ever happened. He didn't know why exactly he denied Ethan was his attacker; there was absolutely no doubt in his mind and in his heart that it had been the intimidating young man who'd cornered him on Dan's bed; who had threatened and touched him, and assured that it would happen the next time he saw him. Ethan was the only person with ready access to the room –everything added up without fail.

He'd chosen to stay silent, so to speak. He hadn't told the truth and now a rapist was walking free, free to hurt someone else. The guilt killed him more than the constant reminder that he'd been violated. And still honesty evaded him, and still no one knew. Signs and letters flashed in his mind like fireworks, and Phil curled in on himself on the sofa, clutching and scratching at his head as the horror continued. The film was long forgotten.

It wasn't until he felt a sob escape his sore throat that Phil had to tell himself to calm down. Dan was right in the bedroom next door, and the walls were thin. He'd never be able to forgive himself if he burdened Dan by letting him hear or see him crying. There were a lot of things Phil couldn't forgive himself for. If Ethan hurt someone else, that would be on his conscious forever. Another sob escaped his throat and he resigned himself to it, hoping Dan wouldn't hear it.

He didn't know that Dan was already in the room. He didn't know Dan had come in with two bowls of cereal because he knew Phil hadn't eaten and he was hungry himself. He didn't know that Dan was physically hurting to see the love of his life in so much distress. He didn't know until Dan's arms were suddenly wrapped tight around him, pulling him in close and eliciting a small yelp from Phil.

That went on for a long minute or so, before Dan finally pulled back to sign to him. 'We need to talk.'

That alone would've struck fear into Phil's heart had it not been for that embrace they'd just shared, and he nodded.

Dan was hesitant, but he couldn't put this off any longer. His boyfriend was hurting and he needed to help. 'I really think you know more about the attack than you've told us.' He was quick to add, 'I know it's painful to think about, and I hate making you, but I'm watching it eat away at you and that's not okay. I can't just sit idly by and watch you hurt from bottling this up inside. If you need to cry, I want you to feel okay doing it in front of me and not going to hide away, because I want to be here to try to comfort you, make you feel better even if it's useless. I love you and seeing you like this breaks my heart.' Dan had to stop his hands for a moment to wipe tears from his eyes as they threatened to spill over. He looked even softer to Phil, concern and love in his eyes. 'I need you to tell me. Do you know who hurt you?'

Phil was shaking. This was his chance, maybe the only time Dan or anyone would encourage him again to name his attacker. He could do it, he could tell him and he had nothing to lose because this was just Dan, and Dan loved him almost as much as Phil loved Dan. And maybe it wasn't too late to fix this. He went to answer, but tears were burning in his eyes and he had to wipe them away. He was still crying, and cursed himself for it, but he was scared and the thought –the memory- was just so painful. He allowed himself a few moments to calm down, and eventually came around to spelling out a name. 'Ethan.'

And Dan was immediately boiling with rage against his ex-roommate. There was no doubt in his mind that if Phil was saying who did it, that was who did it. But the police would need more than that if Ethan was going to be arrested. Dan hoped he could convince Phil to press charges –otherwise there'd be no case. 'How do you know? Did you see him?'

Phil suddenly felt very small and uncertain of himself. This was what he really hadn't wanted Dan to know about, and what he'd worked so hard to keep to himself for his boyfriend's sake. But Dan wasn't living on campus, with Ethan, anymore. Though he had started to realize it was awful and irresponsible of him to not say anything, because what if Ethan had attacked Dan instead? Phil was glad to have taken it instead, but tears were stinging in his tired eyes. 'A while before, he touched me, and told me that he would do it again.'

Dan felt sick, and would've left to vomit if it didn't look so much like Phil needed him. He reached out and pulled his boyfriend into his arms, holding him tight, rubbing his back as the tears started to fall for both of them. He held Phil so his back was pressed against his chest, and Dan signed out in front of them, arms still hugging gently. 'I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry.' It looked odd like this, but they'd done it before, and Phil would understand it.

He was probably crying more than Phil now. He couldn't believe he'd been so unable to protect him, and now this had happened and it wouldn't have if Dan had never left Phil alone with that douchebag –rapist.

'I'm so sorry, Phil. So, so sorry… Are you sure you don't want to tell the police?'

Phil was in no state or consciousness to make a decision on that at the moment. He was emotionally drained from the crying and stress and knowing his rapist was still free and that he had been raped, but remembered nothing of the attack but being hit in the head. Everything between the blow and waking up in the hospital, there was nothing of it to remember. And he felt sick and tired over that.

'I don't know. I'm tired.'

Dan nodded and, seeing the drained look in his boyfriend's eyes and knowing he probably wouldn't want to go to the bedroom, he laid Phil down on the sofa and hurried off to the bedroom to grab a pillow and blanket. He brought them back out to the lounge, finding Phil was half-asleep or more. Dan smiled softly at him in hopes to put him more at ease, and tucked the blanket around him. Phil's head was heavy and Dan didn't bother with the pillow, setting it aside to put back later. He knelt down beside him, and kissed his nose, and reached out a hand to touch his face and stroke his thumb over his cheek.

Dan tried to stay calm, even after Phil had fallen asleep. He couldn't blow this up, couldn't let it get out of control. He wanted to run that motherfucker down but for Phil's sake, he wouldn't. He'd stay, and unless there was reason to go at Ethan, he'd ignore it. This was about Phil, and they'd handle it how Phil chose to. And if that meant Ethan wasn't put in jail, Dan would accept that gross injustice because it was ultimately Phil's decision, and Phil was his world.


	13. Chapter 14

Dan continued to be the only person Phil told about Ethan, and though it was a small act, he felt better for doing it. Yes, the monster was still out there, but he had decided to file a complaint, though he stuck to the story that he didn't know who might've attacked him. But now the police would be able to arrest Ethan if they ever had any evidence, and Phil was starting to be okay with that. Besides, he had Dan and Dan's support in his decisions, and that was ultimately what he needed. Dan made sure that Phil knew he was under no obligation to give answers he wasn't comfortable giving, and that he wasn't responsible for whatever Ethan could potentially do to someone else. Everything else that Phil was comfortable mentioning, he'd already told the police –it wasn't his fault if they detective couldn't figure out that there was no forced entry to the dorm room, and that the only person besides Dan with easy access to the room was Ethan. It should've been a no brainer, but it wasn't their problem anymore.

Dan stopped spending hours in the library after his classes were out, but he didn't find himself always going straight home, either. There was a free counseling center on campus, and it was on the way to the bus stop; he figured he might as well stop in to see if he could speak to anyone. He'd drop by once a week –every Wednesday, his lightest class day— straight through April. A friendly receptionist at a neat little desk would always ask for his student ID and to sign in, but he never stuck around. He'd sit in an uncomfortable chair and ask if he could see a counselor soon, perched on the edge of his seat as he really didn't like being there, waiting. She'd always ask if it was urgent; he'd say no, not really. She'd tell him politely that there were people with scheduled appointments, and he'd be squeezed in when it was possible. Dan would thank her and get up to leave for the bus stop.

It was May. Dan was coming to the end of his third year and he was still biding time in his education. He had no idea what the hell he wanted to do with his life, and as time went on, every option seemed less and less desirable, but things were growing more and more urgent because if he continued to put this off he wouldn't graduate at all. It didn't help that Dan had exams coming up, and he just didn't feel like going to his classes anymore. His courses were like mismatched puzzle pieces: nothing fit together or applied to anything. They were electives –he'd basically taken three years of elective courses.

Dan had cut out of class today, too miserable to go. His professors would be going over the material on the exams, but he couldn't make himself care about missing that. He'd rather just not go back to school at all. He considered dropping out.

Phil hated seeing Dan like this. When Dan didn't get out of bed for breakfast, he understood without explanation, and didn't press for one, either. He brought the food into the bedroom and set it on the small table on Dan's side, and left him be. He emailed Dan's professors and told them Dan wasn't feeling well, and that he'd come by and pick up any material for him toward the end of the day.

Two didn't respond; Professor Keagan replied 'Hope he feels better soon. He's been odd lately –I'm sure you've noticed. Keep an eye on him, sweetheart.'

And Phil intended to, but he also knew that Dan needed some space for a while, and let him stay alone in bed, sleeping in. So Phil went to buy some groceries at the shop on the corner, picking up some of Dan's favorite snacks; he got his video recorded, not explaining why it was being done in the lounge instead of the bedroom –it wasn't in the script, anyway. It was nearly three when Phil decided Dan might be in need of some comfort and company, and he headed to the bedroom.

Dan was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, eyes sunken and head spinning with thoughts of how much of a failure he was. His peers all knew what their degrees would be in, and many were finishing up, where Dan hadn't even gotten started. And he didn't have any skills that would get him a job without a diploma –what the hell was he gonna do?

Dan didn't miss the mattress dipping beside him, and let a small smile come to his face as his boyfriend cuddled into his side, arms tight around his waist and holding him close. Dan put one of his hands over Phil's; honestly he needed this. He turned his head away from the ceiling for the first time in two hours, and kissed Phil's nose in thanks.

They lay comfortably like that for a long while. Sunlight streamed in through the westward window as evening came, but they didn't move for anything, letting it shine and burn in both their eyes for the sake of not leaving their lover's embrace. But when tears were visibly building in Dan's eyes as he remembered his dilemma, Phil pulled away gently, sitting up and turning to sit cross-legged next to Dan. Dan propped himself up on his elbows, moving to sit up as Phil started to sign to him. It was their first conversation of the day.

'I emailed your professors and got you some snacks. I wish I knew what I could do to really help, though. Maybe you could tell me what's wrong?' It was a bit of a confrontational way to word it, but the genuine concern in Phil's crystal eyes countered that and then some.

Dan sighed. He wished he could put into words what exactly was wrong with him. He huffed out another heavy breath and moved his hands choppily, uncertain. 'I still don't know what I'm majoring in. I'm finishing my third year and nothing is coming together yet. I'm going to be 22 years old and I don't know what I'm doing with my life, while everyone around me does. It's… overwhelming, at the least. And it makes me want to just stop trying, because I know I'm going nowhere.'

Phil's eyes went wide and he came up with a hasty response. His hands were moving so quickly Dan almost didn't understand what he was signing. 'You're young, Dan. No one can reasonably expect you to know what you're going to do for the next forty years when you haven't even lived half that long. I know, I know you're at a point in education where you're societally expected to have everything put together, but o you know how many people actually work in the fields they study? Few. Very few. And you shouldn't beat yourself up over something like this, because I can tell you're, you're never going to find your way until you're doing something that actually makes you happy.'

Dan considered this, though didn't entirely believe it. He wanted to, really, but his mindset about this wasn't so easily swayed, at least for the better. He considered it a pathetic way to live, always spiraling downward, but it was his life. It was something all his own. 'I don't know. I just want to have some direction.'

'Start by doing what makes you happy.'

Dan scoffed. 'You're the only thing that makes me happy right now.'

That should've probably been sweet, but it was indeed painful to know, that Dan was apparently so depressed. 'You'll figure it out. You caught on with sign pretty quickly –why not try to be a translator?'

'Because even if I can't speak and understand sign language, and understand English, my damn stutter gets in the way.'

Phil took on a determined face, staring Dan straight in the eye. 'Then beat the stutter.'

Dan laughed out loud. 'I would've done that a long time ago if I could.'

'Go to speech therapy. You haven't tried that, have you?' Dan looked down at his lap; he'd skipped out on his opportunity years ago, and had long ago given up on the idea of any help. This was his life, this was his speech pattern and he hated it, but what was there to do? 'I'll go with you.'

Dan looked back to Phil, eyes tired. 'Like, sit there with me?'

'No, I'll go to speech therapy sessions, too.'

Dan perked up, a bit floored. 'You'll… But you can't speak.'

'But I could learn to, just like you can learn to speak better. You go to improve your speech and suppress your stutter, and I'll go to sessions myself and learn to speak. We'll do it together.'

Dan could only stare at the immense offer, and nodded shallowly. He wanted to do this if Phil would so generously do it with him; he suddenly knew he wanted to do everything with Phil, for a long… long time.


	14. Chapter 15

Dan was clicking his pen at a rapid fire pace –_click-a, click-a, click-a, click_— in the back of the lecture hall where it went unnoticed by his fellow classmates. His professor saw him thumbing frantically as he pondered his exam paper, but said nothing. It was the most noise Dan had made all term, and judging by his overt anxiety, it was best not to interrupt. More than once in the last hour, Dan had considered getting up and walking out with his paper blank. He'd have no qualms about it later; he was going to fail anyway, he was certain. But something was keeping him in his seat, wracking his brain for an answer. There was only a half hour remaining, and Dan had bullshitted an answer –just seventy-four more to go.

Dan didn't hear his professor announce that it was end of time, nor the clacking of his classmates' pens on their own small desks. He'd answered ten questions: ten questions of seventy-five because he had no idea what the hell he'd been doing all semester. He'd failed. Even in a class he'd enrolled in simply to buy time to figure out what he was doing, he had failed.

Most of the students had left to go happily about their day, and Dan was still in his uncomfortable chair, staring at the paper even though he was no longer able to give any feeble attempts in ignorance. Something, though –anything— still would've been better than the blank sheet before him. But he was too late; his professor was approaching his seat. Dan clutched his exam tightly, letting it crinkle in his grip, as if not letting it go will allow him to pass the course.

His professor gave Dan an almost piteous look, and Dan had never felt more pathetic. "Mr. Howell, exam time is up. I need your test."

Dan felt his defeat imminent, and handed the paper over, not thinking about the test or his marks or anything. The first thing he remembered were the weeks of hours of cramming, on top of classes, and meetings with a friendly speech therapist that was wasting his time with Dan. Dan was a lost cause, and if this- if this didn't prove it to the world, he wasn't sure what would.

Dan stumbled meekly out of the center, bag strung heavily over his shoulder as he went for the same route as his peers. He wasn't sure if he'd walk or ride the bus home today; he really wasn't sure he was ready to go home yet at all. The weather was warm if a bit dreary, and it might rain but Dan didn't mind the wet. He needed to take a walk first, and clear his head.

It was a mistake to walk by his old dorm hall, and ashamed to not have been looking where he'd been going, Dan turned on his heel to head in the polar direction before he was spotted by someone he'd once known in passing, some vaguely familiar face of an unfamiliar student. But he was too late –Ethan Anders was standing at a bench in front of the building, puffing at a cigarette and a small bottle of vodka in reach, when he saw his old roommate. And with a glint in his eye and malevolence in his heart, he stood and followed after him.

Dan felt himself being followed, and knew exactly who it was. It took all his will to not turn and beat the shit out of his pursuer, his boyfriend's rapist. He couldn't risk going to jail for it, couldn't do that to Phil, knowing he wanted to think as little as he could of it anymore. So Dan trudged on pushing his hands into his pockets with Ethan still at his heels?

"Hey, Howell, where've you been?"

Dan said nothing. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction. This was an Ethan he hadn't known on the night of the attack: this Ethan had no worries of being found out, had nothing he immediately had to hide. This Ethan wasn't innocent, this Ethan was taunting, vile, a monster relishing what he'd done.

"You left so suddenly I thought you might've dropped out, with your marks and all." Again, no response. Ethan jogged forward to catch up, but continued to lag behind, grating over his victim's shoulder. "How's your boyfriend –is he okay? I've been thinking about him ever since the night someone came in and hurt him while you were out." Dan kept walking, feeling his blood boiling. "God knows who could've done it."

_Yes, God knows, and so do I._

"What's the matter, dude, not gonna talk to me? I'm just being friendly."

Dan shook his head furiously, tears welling in his eyes, not turning his head to face Ethan, continuing to march toward the bus stop. Not much farther now.

"Oh well, I've gotta get going, anyway. Say hi to Phil for me."

"FUCK OFF. You've done enough, haven't you? Leave him alone, leave us alone, and fuck you for hurting me. You can go fuck yourself because I am so fucking done with this shit. And you better be careful, because I'm looking for anything that will put your sorry arse in jail. Don't you ever speak of think about him again, or so help me—"

Tears cascading down his face, Dan turned and ran up the hill to catch the bus just in time. He threw some change into the tin and plopped heavily into a seat in the back. He leaned his head against the window and looked outside without really seeing, mind too laden with other thoughts to notice the city around him pass by in a blur. That had been the most clearly he'd said something in- maybe ever, but he didn't even notice. And no one would.

* * *

He found Phil at home in a cheerier mood than himself. He stood in the doorway, smiling fondly even as his face was streaked with tears, watching his boyfriend do a bit of tidying up. He crept up behind Phil and wrapped his arms around his waist, craning his neck to press his lips to the man's cheek. He simply adored him.

Phil smiled and turned around in Dan's arms for a proper kiss, though still only a quick peck. Deeper kisses were as intimate as they'd been since that sudden blowjob, and needed to be saved for more appropriate times. They were both content with that. 'How was your exam? Do you think you did well?'

And the day's events came rushing back to Dan. He let go of Phil's waist, staggering back and awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet. He brought his shaky hands up to respond. 'I failed.' He fell back onto the sofa behind him.

Phil followed, sitting close next to his boyfriend. 'What makes you think you failed?' he asked, optimistic but cautiously so. 'I'm sure you did fine!'

'I answered only ten of the seventy-five questions. And even those ones I had no idea. My marks in the course weren't at all high enough to pass after failing the exam.' He leaned back against the cushions that would swallow him up if he wasn't careful, sighing heavily. 'I'm dropping out.'

Phil nodded slowly. He couldn't say he liked the idea of Dan giving up his education, but it wasn't something that suited everyone, and ultimately it was nobody's decision to make but Dan's own. And even if Dan couldn't find a job for a while, they could still live on Phil's modest income. Maybe Dan's parents could help out, too.

'So how was speech today?' Dan asked, desperate to change the subject now that his decision was made. Dan himself had speech therapy after class on Mondays and Thursdays, and Phil while Dan was in class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

Phil nodded thoughtfully. 'It's… going,' he signed at length.

Dan scoffed. 'Probably a lot better than mine is. I'm proud of you, really. You've spoken already, haven't you? You're so wonderful to learn to form words for the first time in your fucking life, and I can't even get a damn syllable out without tripping all over it!' Dan didn't notice his tears were falling freely again. His failures were just too numerous to be avoided. He noticed the sort of hurt look in Phil's eyes and had to leave the room before he grew more hostile in his frustrations. This wasn't about Phil, this was never about Phil. This was about Dan's miserable failed attempts to be at least somewhat normal. He hated himself for all of it, and headed to the bedroom in his shame, locking the door behind him even as he felt guilty for locking Phil out of his own room. He couldn't do anything right, could he?

Phil followed immediately after him but wasn't quick enough to make it into the room. He stood on the other side of the entrance, concern etched in his features and worry taking into his heart. He knocked quickly, firmly, on the door. He needed to get inside, to comfort Dan. The door didn't budge, and the knob wouldn't turn. He huffed a deep breath, and decided he had to try something else. He had to get to Dan.

Dan, meanwhile, was in bed, face buried into the pillow as his eyes left it wet. It was Phil's pillow –he'd grabbed it by mistake instead of his own, but he was somewhat comforted by the smell. He breathed the scent in deep, and regretted running from the one person so able and willing to help him through this.

The knocking on the door ceased, but there was another sound. At first, Dan was unsure what it was, and then certain he was mistaken. But it came again –a meek, croaking voice weakly calling out a broken syllable –each sound separate, and beautiful.

"D-a-n..!"

The moment he pulled his wits together Dan scrambled out of bed and stumbled to the door, fumbling to unlock it and pulling it open. Phil stood on the other side, eyes wide and uncertain. Dan wanted to pull him close and never let go, but he needed just one thing before he could. 'Say it again?'

Phil concentrated hard on the delicate movements of tongue and lips he'd been rehearsing, careful not to mess up. He wasn't sure he was even getting it right, but Dan seemed happy, and that was enough to force the sounds from his throat again –softer, more private between the two of them now. "D-a-n…"

Dan's tears of anguish had laid way to ones of joy as they flooded down his cheeks twice as quickly. He choked on a sob as it lingered in his ears –the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard. The love of his life… this was his voice. This was his own sound that had been silent until now, until he was in his late twenties. And Dan –the love of Phil's life in turn— had been his first word.

Dan pulled his boyfriend into his arms, squeezing tight, determined to never let him go. Phil held him just as close, lips tingling with the remnants of the name of his soul mate.


	15. Chapter 16

"Make a video with me?"

The question was slowly spoken and fragmented into individual sounds that Dan pieced together. He was sure he'd heard wrong, and paused his game to turn to Phil, who'd plopped down on the sofa next to him. His heart warmed at his boyfriend's bright smile. 'Back so soon?' he signed fluidly. 'Don't you usually dawdle on your way home from speech? Buy a snack, walk in the park, pet some disease-ridden stray cats because you just can't resist?' He reached out to ruffle his boyfriend's hair, and pull his head down against his shoulder, continuing to run his fingers through the black mop.

"Really. Video with me." It was still difficult for Phil to speak, and it often left his throat sore ("rusted vocal cords," he'd called them) but he was so eager to practice and get better that he'd bear through it, cutting sentences down to the essentials to save time and energy. He was getting better for all his practice, as well he should: he had spoken more in the last month than Dan had in the weeks prior to meeting him. Dan still never really talked; he saw no real reason to, and he had convinced himself that speech therapy was thus far unsuccessful. He only kept going because Phil kept going, and that was the deal.

Dan thought on it for a moment. He kissed the top of Phil's head and retreated his hand from his hair; 'You sure you want me to join you?' Phil nodded eagerly, croaking out an affirmative, eyes twinkling. He put his fingers to his lips, tapping twice; Dan couldn't resist and leaned in to kiss him properly. 'Let's get started.'

* * *

Dan was rather surprised when Phil pulled him to the bedroom where the tripod was already set up with the camera. 'Don't you have to make a script?'

Phil was too eager to answer to bother sounding the words out. His hands moved almost too quickly for Dan to catch. 'The script is already memorized, it was only a few lines long.'

'Oh?' Phil looked about to burst with excitement, and Dan proceeded curious but confused. 'Is it a shorter video this week?'

'Nope! I'm gonna be speaking on camera for the first time.' He was bouncing on his heels at the idea, barely able to contain himself. Dan smiled brightly at his excitement, stepping closer and enveloping him in a proud hug. He was certain he'd never seen his boyfriend happier than in this moment, and it was magnificent. Phil hugged back tight but pulled away quickly, plopping down on the bed where he was in proper view of the camera. He patted the spot next to him, and Dan took his own position, tweaking his hair and hoping he'd look already for Phil's viewers. Phil pushed his hand back down –'You look great, babe, don't worry your silly little head!'

Dan nodded, smiling –unconvinced but willing to let it be— as Phil hit the button to record.

* * *

A few hours later and Dan was job-hunting online –or trying to, anyway. The internet was far too distracting, and he repeatedly found himself scrolling through endless pages of mind-numbing content. Every once in a while something would catch his eye, and he'd reblog it, but for the most part it was junk. He mulled over the idea of an unfollow spree, but decided he was too lazy and should really get to work.

He came across a few open positions for a sign language translator, like Phil had suggested. But Dan was still uncertain. His stuttering had certainly lessened over two months of speech therapy, but it was still there and enough to make him remain self-conscious of it. It was mostly this that was keeping him from scheduling an interview, and not how he wasn't certain just how fluent he was in sign. Though, he'd been living with Phil for a few months now, and Dan spoke to him exclusively in sign (Phil would switch off between sign and broken crackling speech.) Ultimately, it was up to whoever hired him to determine whether or not he was fluent enough, and Dan had enough to worry about already. He X'ed out of his browser and leaned back in the chair.

He heard the door creak open and tilted his head far back enough to see Phil creeping in with his laptop balanced in his arm. He waved with the other hand and Dan got up, moving to the sofa. He sat down and Phil sat next to him. 'Finish editing?'

Phil nodded but looked uncertain. He rested his computer across his lap. 'I think so. Can you watch and tell me if it sounds good?'

Dan nodded; 'Of course.' He took the laptop and watched intently.

It started out with the usual silence and subtitles on the bottom of the screen. Feeling adventurous, Phil had decided to sign out some of what he would've been saying. The Dan on screen was sat next to him, watching, adoring. Video-Phil acknowledged the boy next to him and smiled brightly. 'So you're maybe wondering who on earth this is here with me—' He leaned in and kissed Dan's cheek, laying his head on his shoulder. (Present-Dan blushed, smiling, touching his own cheek where he still felt the ghost of his lover's sweet slips.) 'This is my boyfriend, Dan. I know I said I wouldn't be sharing any personal stuff with you guys, but I think this is different. I didn't know when I said that that I'd find someone as important, someone I love as much as I love him.' (This part was not evident to Dan at the time, and he now felt joyful tears prick in his eyes. Phil smiled and kissed his shoulder, watching with him.) 'Dan actually inspired me to do something very life-changing, and now that it's been a while, I want to share it with all of you! Are you ready?' He bounced a bit where he sat, biting his lip as he gave time for a hypothetical response. Then, "Tada!" The sound was broken and mispronounced; Dan winced, wondering if he should note that. He watched further as Video-Phil went on to tell the prospective viewers how he'd been going to speech therapy, though most of it was rather unintelligible. Phil hadn't yet learned the different pronunciations of vowels and such, only the short sounds, and it showed in his video. At the time of recording, Dan had been too enraptured in Phil's clumsy voice to pay mind to it –it wasn't until now, after being asked if it sounded okay, that he started to doubt.

The video ended, twice as long as the rest and with half as much content with the time needed for Phil to sound words out. Dan set the laptop aside and turned to his boyfriend –and Phil had such a look of pride and excitement on his face that Dan couldn't bear to take that away. He smiled, genuinely. 'It was great.'

* * *

It was uploaded that evening, and Dan noticed a change in Phil almost immediately.

Dan went to pick up Chinese for dinner, but when he'd brought it home Phil was nowhere to be found. Not worried, and smiling at the thought of his boyfriend so giddy over his latest video, Dan set out their food. By the time their plates were set out, Phil had emerged from the hallway and sat rather stiffly at the tiny dining room table.

Ten minutes later and Dan had nearly finished his meal; Phil's went untouched. Dan set his fork down. 'What's the matter, baby? Not hungry?' It was strange: the takeout had been his idea. Phil shook his head, arms folded tightly across his stomach; Dan figured he was ill, and got him to bed. Once he got Phil tucked in, Dan returned to the kitchen area to clean up and make some tea that he'd set on the nightstand. He returned to the bedroom, mug in hand, and tucked himself up behind his boyfriend, kissing his neck sweetly.

Over the next few days the change grew more obvious. Phil wasn't being his usual bubbly self, as much as he tried to pretend he was. He went back to using sign at all times unless he needed to get Dan's attention from across the flat, and even then by the fifth day he'd resorted to text messages.

It was Phil's next video that got the better of Dan as he watched. In the last one, Phil had said he'd be talking in most of his videos, at least a bit, from now on –and yet the whole three minutes was silent, and subdued. This wasn't his Phil; this wasn't the Phil he first watched online, or the Phil that he'd come to know so well and fall so deeply in love with. It wasn't right, and he needed to do something.

He entered the bedroom and found Phil lying under the covers, still feigning illness to explain away his sudden shift in demeanor. Dan laid his hand against his forehead to find he wasn't warm, rather incredibly cold. He poked his boyfriend's cheek to get his attention, which he groggily received. 'What's wrong?'

Phil played dumb. 'What do you mean?' he signed slowly, lazily.

'No, say it. Talk to me, out loud, or I won't answer.' It seemed harsh, but Dan didn't know any other way to outright prove that Phil was purposely avoiding speech –he wondered if he'd even been going to therapy. 'Say it.'

Phil sputtered a bit, words on the tip of his tongue but never coming forward. After a moment he shut his mouth, and knew he'd been had. Who was he kidding –Dan knew him too well to act like nothing was off –and for that he was grateful. He pulled the blanket off himself and sat up, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a tattered binder. He didn't look at Dan as he handed it over, just laid back down.

Dan looked it over: on the cover was a Sharpie-scribbled title, 'Keep Quiet' –Dan already didn't like where this was headed.

He was right: inside were ten –laminated— pages of comments copied from Phil's most recent video, and none of them pleasant. Dan swallowed hard and nervously looked over the first page.

'Show off.' – 'You used to be a huge inspiration for mute in media. That's what we subscribed for. Not everyone can just magically learn to talk like that.' – 'Unsubscribing.' – 'Can't understand you tbh.' – 'If you want talking in your vids get your cute bf to do it for you.' – 'Maybe before you go doing this all the time you should learn how to pronounce the words you're trying to say. Thank god for subtitles.' – 'Go back to the silent stuff, you sound like a dying walrus.' – 'I didn't sign on for this *facepalm*.' – 'You've changed.' – 'Really, babe, this just doesn't sound good –/you/ don't sound good. Stick with your old stuff, that's what we loved you for.'

There were more of the like. There were nine more pages that, when Dan skimmed these as well, were all spewing the same shit. He wanted to vomit. These were supposed to be Phil's fans, people who cared about and supported him. Honestly now, he couldn't blame his boyfriend for shying away. Dan would do anything to fix it, but he couldn't. What was said was said, and even words on a computer screen aren't so easily forgotten when they cut so deep.

Dan turned to Phil, who was pretending to be asleep. He was about to resign and take his usual position as the big spoon, but thought better of it. He patted Phil's arm, urging him to sit back up. Phil stayed down, and Dan got up and kneeled in front of him. He poked gently at his eye, which fluttered open.

'Listen to me. They have no right to be saying any of this to you. What you've accomplished it extraordinary and I wish you were still as proud of yourself as I am of you. And I'm not saying this because I love you, because I absolutely fucking adore you. I love you enough that if any of this was even remotely true, I'd let you know before so you didn't have to be hurt like this. It would've been so much easier to just redo the video after constructive criticism from your number-one fan, right? But I don't think there was anything wrong with your video, because it's you. All you owe anyone is to be yourself so they can see just how amazing you are. You really, really are. Those people don't know shit, and if they can't handle your success, then let them unsubscribe because they're the only ones missing out. That was ten pages of negativity? I will go through that video's comments and come up with fifty pages of positive feedback and congratulations. I will, and I'll remind you every fucking day just how much you inspire me, and how I love you to the ends of the earth and back. You're the most brilliant person I've ever met, who has gone through a shit ton of hardship and genuine trauma and came out so strong on the other side. Don't let those dickheads change what makes you so special. I. Love. You.' He punctuated each gesture with a hard brief kiss. 'Don't let those jealous of your shine tarnish it.'

Phil had tears in his eyes now as he nodded, leaning closer to Dan to hug him tightly around his neck. Dan wrapped his arms around him in turn and held him just a close, pressing kisses to wherever he could. And when they did pull apart, Phil's tears had mostly dried up, and a small smile had come to his face. Dan smiled with him and wiped the last of the wetness away.

'And that one commenter was twice wrong. I'm not cute; I'm incredibly lucky.'


	16. Chapter 17

But Phil knew that Dan wasn't the lucky one. Dan was so patient and kind, gentle and caring, more than Phil could've ever asked for. He understood and respected boundaries, even insisting on upholding them after the attack. He made Phil feel loved and Phil loved him in return. And he wanted to show Dan how much he loved him.

He pressed his lips to Dan's, hard, then again more sweetly. He pulled back entirely, lying on his back, knowing Dan would chase his lips. Sure enough, Dan climbed into bed and leaned in to kiss Phil again. Phil obliged, smiling against his boyfriend's lips and pressing their bodies closer together. Dan, uncertain, didn't pull away but stayed where he was until Phil moved so their bodies were flush against each other. He pulled back enough to sign to him, 'You okay? You're not usually so…'

Phil nodded, blushing. 'I just want… I think we should…' He wasn't sure how to say it, and was too flustered to think straight.

Dan searched his face for an answer, and prompted carefully. 'We should what?'

"… Sex."

Dan blanched, nervous. He wanted to, of course –he'd love for the two of them to physically express their love if only it wasn't for the incident hanging over their heads. He would wait as long as he needed if it meant that Phil wouldn't be uncomfortable with their first time together. Even if Phil couldn't actually remember the attack at all, Dan was still petrified that he'd be reminded of it. 'Are you sure?' He stroked a finger down the side of his boyfriend's face, eyes urging honesty. 'We have all the time in the world if you want to wait longer.'

Phil nodded, determined. 'Yes. I want to be able to make love to the love of my life.'

Dan nodded slowly and leaned in for a sweet kiss. 'You tell me if you want me to stop, okay?'

Phil nodded, taking Dan's hand and squeezing it. "I'm not letting go."

* * *

'No, we're stopping this.' Dan pried his hand from Phil's to make sure the message got across. He turned the lamp back on and winced seeing his boyfriend's eyes welling with tears. Dan sighed, feeling terrible; he should've known this would happen. He turned all his attention to Phil as his dear boyfriend was gulping panicked breaths, staring into nothingness and most obviously seeing the face of his attacker hovering above him. Hesitant, Dan crouched over him, putting himself in place of the imagined being.

'Phil.' He put his weight in his folded legs as he signed for his attention. 'Phil, baby, look at me. It's me, it's Dan –you're okay, no one's gonna hurt you. I'm here… you don't need to be scared. Just breathe; it's okay.' He took Phil's hand and squeezed it tightly in both his own. He had to trust that all the speech therapy sessions would bear fruit: that were he to speak, Phil could read his lips even in his frantic fervor. "You're okay, you're safe. Squeeze my hand. Baby- baby, look at me. You're okay. No one's gonna hurt you…" He had no idea how to actually help and could only hope this was working. He looked sympathetically into his boyfriend's eyes, wide and glazed over with fear. It broke Dan's heart –he didn't know what to do.

"D-Dan…" Phil winced and willed himself to calm down. Dan was right: he was safe; Dan was here and would never hurt him. He stared into Dan's eyes, taking in the love and care found in the brown orbs, and his breathing started to slow. He squeezed Dan's hand and pulled him in close, needing his boyfriend against him, blanketing him in warmth and security. And Dan obliged wholeheartedly, holding Phil close, pressing his face into his bare shoulder. Their clothes still laid crumpled, scattered across the bedroom floor, but in that moment neither exactly minded the press of skin on skin. They actually found comfort in just that, the proximity of their lover's bare body flush against their own. Dan let one hand go of Phil's and moved it up and down his arm in long, sensual strokes.

He pulled away just enough to look into a pair of wet, loving eyes. He smiled softly and kissed his cheek. "Maybe we won't make love tonight, or any foreseeable night. But I still want to be close to you like this, if you'll allow me."

Phil nodded, reading Dan's lips clearly, craving intimacy just as much as prior to initiating the desire. He buried his face into Dan's neck as the other's arms wrapped tight around him. They laid like that for a while, naked bodies pressed close; Dan threaded his hand through Phil's damaged hair, appreciating the jet black strands tickling his fingers. He heard a quiet mumble hum against his chest and pulled away just a bit, reaching to tilt his boyfriend's chin up so Phil would look at him. "What was that?"

"Why do you bother with me?"

Dan honestly couldn't believe what he was hearing. He searched Phil's eyes for an explanation, but found nothing but a strange sleepiness. "What do you mean?" He made sure to enunciate, to make the movements of his lips clear and precise as possible. As much as Dan had learned sign from Phil, Phil was learning subtle, habitual speech movements from Dan. It encouraged him to speak aloud, and get better. "What do you mean, 'bother with you?'"

Phil bit his lip, hesitant. "Why be so kind and patient with me? You could find someone so much better, someone you deserve and deserves you. I'm nothing special –I'm difficult to deal with at the best of times, and at worst… Why do you live with that in your life? Surely you would prefer to live less burdened by someone so…" He couldn't think of a word.

Dan felt his skin light. He moved down to Phil's level and looked him dead in the eyes. 'Look at me. I love you. I don't 'bother with you,' because you're what makes my life bearable. You have your obstacles –everyone does, and yours have been worse than some, some like mine. And I will always stick by you through them. And I wish I didn't have to overtly remind you of how much I love you because I wish you'd just know, know that you're worthy of all my love and more. You're the most precious thing I've ever known, and I would be a damn fool to give that up. You don't burden me in any way. In plainest terms, you inspire me to be a better person. I love you, so fucking much.'

Phil wiped his eyes on the pillowcase, smiling softly at Dan. "As much as I love you?"

Dan laughed quietly. 'Much more.'

But that didn't sit right with Phil. "Dan, do you not think you're the light of my life?"

Dan blushed. He didn't answer, so Phil went on.

'Do you really not know that you're the main reason I've been surviving these last few months? That sounds selfish… What I mean is that you make me so happy without even trying. You make me feel loved like no one ever has, and I just want to make sure you feel the same. I love you so much, and I don't want to ever lose that for as long as you'll love me, too.'

Dan's face was bright red and he didn't care to hide the stupid grin on his face, which was mirrored on Phil's. 'With… With all this talk of eternal love and all that, we might as well be married.'

Phil's eyes lit up like fireworks. 'Let's do it?'

Dan stared, wide-eyed. 'Get married?'

Phil smiled, and Dan couldn't keep the smile from his face at the thought. He huffed out the shock.

'Okay, let's do it.'


	17. Chapter 18

Dan sat anxiously in front of the camera. He took a moment to let his nerves subside: he couldn't let his apprehension sneak into his voice, or his stutter would return and it would take forever to get an intelligible take. Phil would be awake in a few hours, and Dan wanted to get back into bed with him before he was. It was six in the morning, sinfully early for Dan, but he had nothing else to do today and could nap when there wasn't such a pressing matter at hand. He was back in his wedding tux, minus the tie, and the first few buttons undone so he wouldn't look too formal for the camera. He leaned forward and pressed the record button.

"Hi. So, this is the first video on my channel, _danisnotonfire_. Don't ask about the name, I tried about twelve others that were taken first. And I know this is gonna be poorly edited, sorry, I'm still learning and Phil isn't awake to help me with that. Speaking of which, he's kind of the reason I'm even giving this a go in the first place. So, on the off chance you enjoy my videos, be sure to thank him for that. Really, though. My husband— god, he's my husband now." Dan couldn't help the grin that broke out on his face. "We just got married last night. This is actually most of the tux I wore. His looked much better."

He cleared his throat again and tried to suppress the blush on his cheeks at the thought of his sleeping lover. "I'm gonna keep this brief, I guess. I've dropped out of school for various reasons, and if this YouTube thing doesn't take off, I may have an offer as a sign language translator up for grabs. I have the interview next week, and we'll see how that goes."

He heaved a sigh and went on. "I know Phil already boosted this channel to you guys about three times now, and you've all just been waiting for me to actually do something with it besides comment on his videos. I don't expect to do as well as he has, especially since I'm just getting started now and he's had about eight years a head start. I'm happy for him and his success –very, very proud. And you should be, too. I know I'm rambling, but he's such… a huge part, made such a huge impact on my life, I just can't… stop…" He tucked his messy fringe back.

"And so I think you all deserve to know something. I'm not going to go into details, and I'm gonna urge you not to pry for any, from either of us." He paused, gathering enough courage to speak further, holding tears back. "He's been through a really rough year. Really bad, but he's still here and happy and selfless as ever. And maybe it seems like I'm making this video revolve around him but that's not too far off from my entire world right now. We got married last night; I'm still reeling from the thought alone. That he would pick me… I love him. And for everyone who doesn't know me enough to trust that I will try my damnedest every day to do right by him, please believe that I will. We've seen each other through pain –I've seen him through pain that no person should ever experience. We love each other and yes, I've seen what people have been saying about us. And I'm sorry you don't believe that what we have is real, but—"

The door creaked open. Dan turned quickly to find Phil standing in the entrance, eyes tired as he tried to rub the sleep from them. Dan smiled and scooted over, patting the cushion next to him. Phil stumbled over to sit with him, leaning heavily against his husband in his half-sleep. Dan wrapped his arms around him and kissed the top of his head where it was nestled under his chin.

Phil blinked his eyes open to see the camera was recording. "Are you finally making the video?" Dan nodded and stroked his fingers through his hair. Phil smiled. "Guys, Dan's the best." He sat up a bit, suddenly energized. "I know you haven't seen the real him yet-" (Dan wondered, the real him?) "but trust me, once his nerves die down he'll be the funniest guy you've ever seen."

Dan shook his head, laughing and ruffling his husband's hair. Phil turned and tackled him down onto the sofa.

"You can try again tomorrow. Today you're mine."

Dan tilted his chin up to look at him, to read his lips. "Today, tomorrow, forever –yes, I'm yours."

Phil laughed, blushing and swatting him playfully. "Romantic."

* * *

They spent the day after their wedding as any newlyweds should: doing absolutely nothing but basking in the other's company. And when they were done with that, they headed up to the roof. The sun had set long ago, and the air was pleasantly cool, blowing wistfully at the couple's faces a hundred meters into the sky. Their skin was damp still from the intimate warmth they'd shared this evening. The sounds of the city were mute on Dan's ears so high up; they were wrapped in a silence Dan had to imagine Phil lived his life in. But only for that moment, and willingly, it was peaceful.

"The world is ours."

Dan turned his head up, and looked out onto the cityscape, lights twinkling down below and up in the night sky above them. He turned back to his husband, to the love of his life. Phil was still looking out to the horizon, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

When he was a child, Dan had dreaded the future, every possibility of tragedy, every 'what if' scenario his mind would conjure. He'd lived hesitantly, cautious and apprehensive, and it had been no way to live. But now, on top of the world with the man he loved with his whole heart and soul, he knew he didn't have to be fearful anymore. He had a future worth looking forward to, because it was forever more knotted with the one person he would always want to spend it with.

He laughed –his stutter, the most wretched thing to plague his life, brought him to the single greatest thing he'd ever have.

Dan crept behind his husband, arms held out in front of the two of them. His fingers spoke clumsily out in the open air: "We'll take on the world –together."


End file.
